


Going Out With A Whimper

by Telaryn



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Divorce, Ending Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Homelessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate hits rock bottom the day he learns he and Maggie are officially divorced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Out With A Whimper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 3 Angst Bingo; prompt: the last time. The idea for this story came from the exchange between Nate and Maggie in The First David Job where he references a time when he lived in his car.

It was cold the last night Nate Ford spent as a married man; cold enough that he’d been tempted to try and run the car heater while he slept. In the end, gas being number two on the ever-growing list of items he couldn’t currently afford, he’d settled for a fifth of cheap Scotch and every piece of winter clothing he could figure out how to put on his body.

It wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but when the sun finally managed to warm the interior of the Honda Nate was at least able to appreciate the fact that he hadn’t managed to freeze to death. Like most things in his life these days it was a pyrrhic victory – the achievement had left him monstrously hung over, with no idea how he was going to be able to afford the food or liquor he needed to fortify himself against another night.

 _What the fuck am I going to do?_ He needed a plan. The limited amount of money he’d left with wouldn't last long. Maggie’s process server had already found him, and while he wanted to believe she hadn’t been as selfish as she could have been, he hadn’t bothered to read the papers in the sterile looking manila envelope before signing and sending them back. 

He’d already failed her as husband and father; the least he could do was set her free without a fight.

Gradually his thoughts drifted to the small medicine kit in the glove compartment. He’d found it in one of his suitcases, along with his razor, toothbrush and other essentials Maggie had packed for him. _Aspirin._ He needed aspirin and water before he even thought about doing anything else, otherwise his entire day was going to be lost sitting hunched in the back seat of his car, praying for someone to come along and blow his brains out.

 _”You always thought you were better than me. Smarter than me.”_ Nate winced, hearing his father’s voice under the throbbing in his skull. _”Look at you now. None of the boys you looked down on growing up would spit on you.”_ On top of the driving need to forget all his other failures, the need to drown out his father’s voice was the best argument he had for staying drunk as long as he could afford it.

“Aspirin,” he croaked, gripping the front seats with renewed determination. Drinking himself to death was a plan, but it required proper pacing. Otherwise he’d end up in the ER or behind bars, and the wrong person would be called to try and save him from himself. 

And salvation was the last thing he wanted or deserved.

Leaning over the front seat, searching out the aspirin and a half-drunk bottle of water nearly killed him. Collapsing into the back seat with a groan of pain, Nate finally managed to shake out three pills and get them down without doing himself any further injury. 

A chunk of time drifted by as he sat and waited for the medicine to take effect. There were a dozen or more things he knew he should be doing, but all of it was more effort than he could manage. Food would have been a positive step, but he wasn’t hungry. Clean clothes, or even a shower, were more than he could wrap his mind around.

Nate only realized he was drifting back to sleep, when a sharp rap on the car window brought him bolt upright – looking around wild-eyed.

 _Catherine._ Maggie’s divorce attorney was standing outside the Honda looking in at him, her nose wrinkled in disgust. _”Fucking perfect,”_ he thought, scrubbing a hand across his face, and trying to force the cobwebs from his brain.

“Nate, I need to talk to you!” Her voice was muffled by the car door, giving it a warped, hollow sound.

Wincing in pain, Nate waved her off and pulled himself towards the door on the opposite side of the vehicle. A blast of frigid air struck him full in the face as he managed to fumble open the door.

“I love what you’ve done with the new place,” Catherine drawled. She’d come around the trunk of the car to his side of the car.

“Bite me,” he snarled, looking up at her. She was perfection from head to toe, a shining, sharp-edged example of everything he’d lost, and Nate realized with a small jolt that if he’d had his gun he might have shot her just for the tiny glimmer of satisfaction it would have provided. “What do you want?”

Sobering, Catherine held out a fragile-looking white envelope. “You don’t exactly have an address I can give the court,” she said.

Heart suddenly in his throat, Nate reached up and took the letter with trembling fingers. _This is it,_ he thought, noting the official markings. He forced himself to open the envelope and take out the single sheet of paper inside. _In the matter of Maggie Collins Ford vs. Nathan Ford…dissolution of marriage…final judgment._

When he reached the end of the document, Nate blew out a sharp breath. “Well,” he said, carefully refolding the paper and putting it back into the envelope. “I guess that’s it.” He looked up at Maggie’s attorney again. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

He could see the pity in Catherine’s eyes now, and it angered him. “Stay away from her, Nate. Give her a chance to put her life back together again, okay? If you ever loved her, it’s the least you can do.”

His answering smile tasted bitter on his lips. “I’ve got no problem with that,” he said. After a moment, he sobered. “Don’t tell her where I am, okay?”

Now it was Catherine’s turn to snort. “You never have to worry about that, Nate. Ever.”


End file.
